


Lookback Time

by Poplitealqueen



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, M/M, Mind-Melds, Time Travel, angst all over the place, if the Star Trek universe had midichlorians they would be replaced with angst, universe hopping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen
Summary: Living in an alternate universe isn't easy, but Spock Prime is making do. Then the universe decides to "throw him a curve ball" or so the Earth expression goes. In this instance, it isn't a ball at all, but his sister.





	1. Now and Then Here and There

**Author's Note:**

> Pop? Writing Star Trek?! Yep. It was only a matter of time; it has 'star' in it, after all.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (This began life has a post on Tumblr that gained a bit of notoriety. Well, if you count about a 100 notes a bit of notoriety. Let's just say it was a bigger response than I thought lil ole me would receive, and I have now developed an ego. The post is getting a bit long now, though, what with me constantly adding to it, so I'm putting it on here.)
> 
> -Pop
> 
> PS: There's a Discovery spoiler in the end notes. Proceed with caution.

Ending a transmission with Jim always left Spock in a dark depression that not even hours of intense meditation could fix.

It had nothing to do with talking to Jim himself. In fact, Spock found that whenever he received a request from Jim’s encrypted link, he was at the happiest, and most centered, he could ever possibly be in this alternate universe he found himself trapped in. To hear the voice and see the face of his T'hy'la once more - no matter how young or minutely different - was a gift in every sense of the word.

That did not mean it did not hurt.

If it had been up to Spock’s prerogative, he would never had made contact with this universe’s Jim. However, as he now saw was a continous trend that spanned beyond the reach of space and time, Spock and James T. Kirk had a funny habit of running into one another. Doctor McCoy would have called it fate; Spock called it a constant in the algorithm of the cosmos, a variable that always equaled the same thing no matter what formula it was plugged into.

Jim was the one that had stumbled upon him on Delta Vega, and Jim was the one that had initiated this continuous contact between the two of them since then. The transmissions were rarely more than a week apart, or whenever Jim found the time between his missions, but they always lasted a considerable amount of time when they happened.

Spock could not fathom what prompted them. Perhaps this Jim was simply kind, perhaps he was curious, or perhaps the impromptu mind-meld on Delta Vega had left some vestige of the Bonding between Spock and _his_ Jim within this younger man.

That final reason was what Spock’s alternate self surmised was the cause of his captain’s almost insistent need to remain in contact.

Spock never ceased to find humor in regards to his alternate self. Where the transmissions between with Jim could lead to all manner of discussions, the terse and secretive ones between him and himself always had a singular topic: Jim.

Witnessing himself falling in love with James T. Kirk was a strange yet not unwelcome introspection. And, if Spock were to be completely honest with himself, rather entertaining. His alternate self did not trust him, he was profoundly jealous of him, and the anger he had exhibited upon finding out that Spock had melded with Jim was so apparent that Spock felt certain that any telepathic entity within three planetary systems of the Enterprise would have been able to sense it.

Spock always took the opportunity to point out that if his alternate self had not marooned Jim, then the meld would never have happened. Let no one say that he ever went easy on himself.

The latest transmission had yielded an unusual result: when Spock had opened up the link between himself and Jim, he had found both Kirk _and_ his alternate self staring back at him through the screen.

Jim was smiling, as he usually did. Spock’s alternate self stood next to his left shoulder, hands clasped tightly behind his back and shoulders ramrod straight. He was most definitely not smiling.

“Hey Spock,” Jim greeted, the audio playing just a moment before his lips moved. They must be quite far away, or else some interstellar interference was affecting their connection.

Spock allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sound of his name coming from James T. Kirk, a wash of warmth flooding over and through him like sunshine after a storm.

“Hello Jim,” he responded, the use of the nickname eliciting the slightest of twitches around his alternate self’s mouth. “It is good to hear from you.”

Jim’s smile broke into a grin. “We have news,” he said.

“Oh?”

“We may have encountered another being from your timeline, Ambassador,” Spock’s alternate self responded at an encouraging glance from Jim.

“There’s no need to be vague about it, Mr. Spock,” Jim said playfully.

Spock’s alternate self answered that with an unusually expressive movement: one raised eyebrow. Spock had to resist the urge to chuckle at the display.

“I was not being vague. I was simply revealing information in an untimely manner.”

“Sarcasm duly noted, Commander.” Jim laughed at that. “Just ask if he knows her or I will, okay?”

Spock’s alternate self dipped his chin in silent admission that maybe, just maybe, he had displayed an emotion.

“Very well, captain.” Spock’s alternate self turned back to the screen. “Ambassador, do you know anyone by the name of Michael Burnham?”


	2. The Great Puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a lovely reception thus far to my first ever published Trek fic! Thanks for that, all, and here's the next bit.
> 
> The chapter title is taken from a quote by Lewis Carroll:
> 
>  
> 
> _"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle."_
> 
>  
> 
> (If you watched the latest episode of Discovery, you'll know exactly why I wanted to use a Carroll quote. I'm tempted to write an entire Michael and Spock fic centered around them now. I am but a humble writer, and when I am presented with the canon fact that Amanda read _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ to baby Spock and lil Michael, I'm honor bound to milk the fuck out of it.)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Pop
> 
> PS: First time using Vulcan! AH.

“Wa'na'shau, S'chn T'gai Spock.”

For all his many years, Spock had only ever known one human that could pronounce his full Vulcan name.

His mother, despite all her time on Vulcan, had never been able to fully master the planet’s primary tongue. She could understand it perfectly, and had the cleanest calligraphy that Spock had ever seen, but the words–particularly Spock and his father's full names–had always escaped her human tongue.

Jim had not fared much better. Spock’s Bonded had tried time and again, as he was wont to do, to learn the proper pronunciation of Spock’s name, but his tongue could not twist right and his throat could not produce the low tones. The syllables always came out garbled and confused, and though it was endearing to be called _‘Suhchin Tuhguy’_ Spock by his T'hy'la, Spock had never known the joy of hearing his complete, true name come from the lips of his beloved.

(The times when they had melded together had been different. Within one’s mind, without the impediment of actual sound and voice, Spock had heard Jim speak his true name a million times over)

Nyota Uhura had come closest, but there had been that infinitesimal lack of something within her words that could only come from one that had lived a life immersed in the language.

No, there had only ever been one truly able say it, and Spock had convinced himself a long time ago, even before he had come to this alternate universe, that he would never hear it again.

Yet here was that voice, so perfectly clear even through the subspace channel. And then, in the span of a blink, there she was, standing at this Jim’s right shoulder. She was dressed in what could only be borrowed clothing, the bright red of the Enterprise uniform shirt reflecting off of her dark skin like the evening sun of Earth across a nighttime sky. Her short-cropped hair, Spock noticed with no small amount of relief, had been allowed to return to its natural state. If her skin was a nighttime sky, her hair was cloud, curly and thick as wool. _Good,_ Spock thought. He had never liked the fact that she assumed she needed to straighten it to fit in with what many wrongfully believed to be the Vulcan standard. There was no logic in judging someone solely by their appearance, after all.

The last thing Spock noticed was her face. It was almost as if he had been frightened to see it, frightened to have the illusion broken and realize that, no, this was not his sister after all.

He was wrong, of course.

Michael Burnham raised an eyebrow at him, and the barest hint of a smile pressed the corners of her lips upward. A Mona Lisa smile, as Spock had heard it once called. There, yet not quite. Michael had always been good at those.

“I hope that my absence has not been so long that you have forgotten me, sa-kai."

Spock found his voice hiding somewhere between confounded and elated. “Never, ko-kai,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Vulcan Translations**  
>  _Wa'na'shau_ : An informal greeting  
>  _sa-kai_ :brother  
>  _ko-kai_ :sister


	3. Right on Q!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Spock are reunited on New Vulcan, and also Chaos from MLP shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like those even mildly aware of Star Trek will know what's going on the moment they read the title, but if you are one of those that don't, I hope you like the surprise. Grin, he is my absolute favorite, hands down.
> 
> -Pop

The first thing Michael did when she was across the threshold of Spock’s current residence on New Vulcan was press the fingertips of one hand to his.

It was a quick gesture, the equivalent of a friendly kiss on the cheek between relatives back on Earth, but it was still enough to garner a look from Spock’s alternate self as he entered behind Michael. That did not last long, however, because as soon as Jim came in as well and closed the door shut behind him, Spock’s alternate self only had eyes for him.

“You guys really built this place up quickly,” Jim said in his usual relaxed way of greeting. “It’s impressive.”

Spock inclined his head at Jim and his alternate self. “When you give 10,000 displaced Vulcans something to do, they do tend to do it well.”

Jim chuckled at him, and Spock offered a slight smirk in return (mostly to see how his alternate self would react, and as predicted it is quite worth it), before turning back to Michael.

She had always been good at schooling her expression into neutrality, but Spock could read her tics as well as he could read his own. His appearance startled her, or perhaps all of New Vulcan did. It was not exactly something one could take in stride.

“It has been too long, Michael,” Spock said, and then he raised his to shoulder level, palm forward, thumb extended and fingers spread between the middle and ring in the customary ta'al.

Michael mimicked the salute, her dark eyes liquid, and when she lowered it, Spock led all three of them to what served as his living room: one low couch across from an earth-donated bergere with a short table between them, a computer terminal, and a scroll of traditional Golic calligraphy hanging from the earsternmost pale stone wall–one of the few to survive the destruction of Vulcan. Michael and his alternate self both stared at it for a long time, while Jim made himself comfortable in the center of the couch.

Spock’s alternate self sat on his right, Michael on his left, and Spock himself took the only chair.

Spock looked at them all in turn. “I suppose the fact that this is something that had to be discussed in person means that it should be discussed quickly, but I must ask. Would anyone like tea?”

They all did. Tea was distributed quickly, and with the warm stone cup between his palms, Spock found himself far more relaxed than he had been just a few minutes before. He had too many questions to ask them, but settled on one.

“Why all the subterfuge?”

Jim opened his mouth to respond, but Spock’s alternate self stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I can assure you that my place of residence is exceptionally secure,” Spock added carefully. “From your reaction, I can presume this has to do with Section 31?”

Spock would recognize the furtive looks his three guests gave him with ease. Only Starfleet’s secret intelligence branch inspired such apprehension among battle-hardened officers. Spock did not blame them. Even just knowing the name Section 31 could lead to one’s death, or worse: one’s untimely and forced promotion into its ranks.

Michael leaned forward in her seat, and placed her cup on the table between them. Her eyes were hard, and her shoulders set in a firm line.

“If they learn how I was brought here, I fear they may attempt to harness the power to disastrous effects.”

“Or just kill it,” Jim said offhandledly. “They love killing things they don’t understand.”

“One can hardly call them Starfleet,” Spock’s alternate self agreed coldly.

Spock was not sure where this level of vitriol came from, but he was glad for it. Hatred, unlike anger, made one careful.

“They will not hear of it from me,” Spock said. “What brought you here, Michael?”

“Not what, dear Mr Spock. _Whom_.” Came the friendly reply.

The words did not come from Michael, nor from Jim or Spock’s alternate self, though all three of them had an identical look of tired exasperation as soon as they were uttered. Spock did not flinch when he felt a presence behind him that he had not before, and a weight on the back of his chair like someone leaning on it.

Michael sighed. “Q said you'd already know who he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Ta'al is the name for the traditional Vulcan salute that we all know and love.  
> *Golic is basically old-ass Vulcan. Sorry I'm not wording that better. Words are hard.  
> *Section 31 is canon and I enjoy the idea of them way waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much. What is it with me and secret agencies? Y'all are lucky you never had to read my excessively self-serving DS9 fic about the Obsidian Order and Section 31 basically in a Mexican standoff with my two favorite boys from that entire show of favorites, Garak and Dr. Bashir.
> 
> But I digress! I must, or these notes will be longer than the actual chapter, and that's just unnerving.  
> *Q is my favoritest favorite to ever be a favorite, but man he's really hard to write right. Wish my luck!

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone asks: yes, I have opinions on Discovery. I won't get into them here, but feel free to look on my blog and see how goddamn salty I get with people. That being said, I did enjoy it and I will continue to enjoy it. I really really really really really REALLY like Michael. Really. The show isn't all that bad.
> 
> ...even if killing Georgiou was so fucking stupid it made my head spin and I spoke in tongues for a solid 48 hours.


End file.
